green is the warmest color
by littleghostthings
Summary: A little twist on the events of "White Out", where it isn't Hook that keeps Emma warm, but Regina.


It always comes down to Henry.

She never would have agreed to this thing. She never would have agreed to leave her house, especially not for Emma Swan, the main reason she locked herself away in the first place.

But then Charming came by, knocking at the door in this completely irritating way that seems so inevitable when it comes to interactions with this family.

He yelled that Emma was in danger and something inside her twisted. It's a ridiculous thing actually that as soon as he mentioned her name something inside her dropped and the world seemed to just stand still. It's because she is still angry at her. Of course. It's the only thing that makes sense.

She pretended not to hear, did her best to ignore the incessant knocking on her door, and even more so the abundance of feelings running through her every fiber.

She doesn't care.

Whatever has happened, Emma Swan deserves it.

She can't pretend to think that it's true and her stomach twists in ways that are more painful than she is able to comprehend.

She doesn't want to help this woman.

Not after everything that has happened.

"She might die in there Regina, please" she hears the exasperation in his voice and shivers slightly. Everything seems to tingle somehow everything seems to be on fire but her skin feels like ice.

She doesn't want to help this woman.

The knocks on the door become even more frantic, building up to a raging crescendo and she knows he is going to give up soon. Get someone else to help his daughter.

Hook would probably jump on the opportunity.

Hook.

Even the thought of his name tastes bitter.

"Henry would want you to help" And there it is again. Her son. The one it always comes down to when Emma Swan is involved and something like relief settles over her like a soothing blanket.

The trembles within her still and she tries her hardest not to think about it.

She only does this for Henry.

* * *

When they arrive at the scene Regina is ready to kill Charming. He has talked without stopping, seemingly without breathing, for the entire ride. And god has she forgotten how goddamn annoying his voice is.

They exit the car together and finally, finally, he stops talking. For a second.

"So this is where she is trapped" he points to the border that is now covered with huge towers of ice.

"Really?" she says, looking at him with wide eyes "I wouldn't have noticed" she rolls her eyes and moves in closer. Whoever this Elsa-woman is, she does have some badass powers.

Before she can even think about forming a fireball or just anything to make all of this go away and free the infuriating woman inside, that means absolutely nothing to her, the ice cracks.

Dust covers a small part of the ice wall and they watch as the ice starts to break from the inside.

Charming and Regina move in closer immediately, only to watch as slowly the ice is being broken into some sort of an exit, allowing them to see inside the monstrosity and into the panicked eyes of a blonde woman. She supports Emma on her right side, although it is actually more something along the lines of practically carrying her outside the ice cage.

Charming all but jumps at his daughter and drags her outside and into his arms.

She really isn't sure what her role is supposed to be now. Can she leave? She could probably.

Her eyes find Emma's and somewhere within those green eyes she loses her breath.

The blonde's eyes are only barely open and so unbelievably tired. Her skin is pale, almost snow-like and after a few seconds she starts shivering. It is unlike anything Regina has ever seen. It is violent and completely out of control and without realizing it she moves in closer to the blonde.

Charming wraps his jacket around her shoulders although it does nothing to soothe the trembles, the painful chattering of her teeth or the unsettling fear in her eyes.

She is doing this for Henry, she reminds herself.

And then she moves next to Charming, ignores the look he is giving her and places her hand on Emma's shoulder.

She closes her eyes and conjures pictures of fires and blankets and the feeling of being wrapped in somebody's arms.

Warmth.

Her magic works without a hitch and the effects are immediate. The trembling starts to subside and as she opens her eyes she notices the way the color is finding its way back into Emma's cheeks. Her lips turn rosy again, a color of sweetness and as her eyes find Regina's she smiles. It's a smile that says "thank you, I am sorry, I am glad you came" and Regina finds herself retreating from the blonde ever so slightly.

Before she can pull back completely however, Emma's hand finds its way into hers, interweaving their fingers before Regina can disappear. It's warm now, and sure, and Regina looks up to meet the blonde's gaze again.

"Thank you" her voice is silent, hesitant, but honest and Regina tries her best to keep up her mask of indifference.

She shrugs and finds that Emma's smile only widens at the notion.

"I guess we're done here" she says, her voice is cool but Emma's smile doesn't waver.

She wants to say something, Regina sees it in her eyes, the silent battle, the trepidation.

"Emma" she then hears from somewhere behind. Hook has finally also got the message that his girlfriend might be not quite so alright.

An agitated sigh escapes her lips before she can even fathom it and Emma looks at her with curiosity that turns into slight disappointment when she notices the purple smoke enveloping Regina's frame. Right before she disappears from the scene altogether.

The disappointment in Emma's eyes really shouldn't bother her this much. And it most definitely shouldn't fill her with the urge to make it better somehow.

It's just for Henry.

She doesn't want his mother being sad.

This lie doesn't even make sense anymore.

* * *

She still feels the remnants of the ice in her bones. She has been feeling the slight ache, the almost imperceptible shivers all day and at this point she feels they have become a part of her.

It becomes worse at night, alone in her bed. Hook had offered to stay but somehow his heat hadn't made it better at all. It had been too close, too claustrophobic in its warmth and his arms had been too tight, to strong and just not-

Not what she needed.

She tries to conjure the warmth of Regina's magic again. Somewhere within herself she can still feel the echoes of this kind of warmth. The kind that filled her up completely and made her feel safe and as if this was how she as meant to feel all along. When she closes her eyes she can still imagine the other woman's hand on her shoulder, the illusion of something tethering her to this world, as if that moment was all that counted and everything else was a phantasm.

She really shouldn't miss Regina, of all people. And especially not with this intensity.

She is still confused as to why Regina had shown up in the first place. Their history had been more than complicated in the past few weeks and she wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't come.

A shiver takes hold of her in its violent grasps. She shakes silently, her entire being trying to escape from the cold within. But it's impossible to escape when you are trapped by the confines of your own body.

She turns around in bed again, wraps the blanket even tighter. It doesn't help. Nothing has helped.

Oh fuck it.

Why does this tend to be her last thought before major decisions these days?

But she gets up anyway, and moves toward the front door, pulling a wide hoodie over her already layered look.

She needs someone that can help.

* * *

She stands in front of the door for about ten minutes. It's cold outside and this is seriously not what she should be doing, given that she already had a near death experience with the cold today.

She raises her arm, her hand in a fist, ready to knock on the intimidating door.

She drops it and continues to stare at the wooden fabric. It's a stupid door and she narrows her eyes at the texture.

Another five minutes pass and she thinks that if this were a staring contest she'd probably be losing. To a door. Get a grip on yourself Swan.

She raises her arm again and then turns around to leave the porch. She shouldn't have come.

She changes her mind as soon as she reaches the gate. She already came all the way down here, she's not going to be intimidated by a door (because that is the real problem here, do not kid yourselves)

She arrives on the porch again and is almost ready to turn back around to leave when the door swings open and she blinks at Regina standing in front of her.

Her hair is a little messy and it is astounding how beautiful she looks.

"Now as amusing as your little-" she gestures vaguely up and down along Emma's frame "whatever the hell you are doing, is. Is there anything you want?"

She looks annoyed but there is also this spark in her eyes. Emma is not sure what to make of it but she did open the door.

"I'm cold" she says, simply because she is way too tired to try and come up with an eloquent speech as to why she is here at 2am in the morning.

"Well that is a tragedy, try turning on the heater" Regina says, turning around to retreat back inside.

"I did" her voice is slightly louder now, a little more desperate "It didn't help. I drank tea and got like three blankets, I couldn't get warm"

Regina turns around to look at her again and Emma catches the almost imperceptible sigh that falls from the older woman's lips.

"I'm sure your boyfriend would be glad to help" she sounds a little angry and a little- sad?

It's probably because she misses that thief. God Emma seriously pull yourself together.

"He's not exactly my boyfriend" Emma mumbles and watches as Regina's expressions change so fast it is almost impossible to keep track and place the emotion. Although Emma is definitely sure of two, confusion and satisfaction.

"Well then I am not sure what you want me to do" Regina has regained her grip on her voice and general facial expression as she speaks.

"Your magic helped" Emma's voice is small now, sounding much younger than she actually is.

Regina stays silent, her eyes unreadable and Emma feels the slight pinch of rejection stinging in its familiar place.

She turns around, ready to leave. She really shouldn't have come. After everything that has happened she understands why Regina wouldn't want to her help her. The rejection was kind of inevitable and she honestly wonders why she evoked it anyway.

"Well how do you suppose I help you if you leave again?" Regina does her best to sound irritated and maybe she truly is, except not by Emma, but herself.

But when Emma turns around, her eyes are wide and hopeful and oh god so full of gratitude, and she finds that whatever reason she has not to help this woman in front of her, doesn't matter more than her longing to help.

* * *

She knows she won't be able to magically keep Emma warm all night so she takes precautions before she even thinks about starting her magic.

She lights a fire and pours both of them a glass of red wine before she settles on the couch next to Emma. They sit in silence for a good while, sipping their wine and listening to the crackling of flames.

It's comfortable, although she doesn't want it to be. But somehow everything about this woman had always seemed terribly easy, terribly complicated too, and most of all so terribly, terribly inevitable.

She reaches behind her to hand Emma the blanket that is still left on the couch and the younger woman wraps it around herself with an almost shy smile.

Regina closes her eyes then, finding that part of her magic she has rarely used in her years as the evil queen. The part of her that is light and easy and that fills the air with a kind of warmth that makes everything else fade. The kind of warmth you find in hot water bottles on a rainy day, or in fuzzy socks after stepping out of your winter boots. The kind of warmth that fills your heart when you read poetry or listen to a quiet song. The kind of warmth that settles on the skin and warms every pigment, every fiber until it reaches further and warms even your heart.

She watches as Emma leans toward her ever so slightly, closer to the radiating heat and Regina finds that she herself doesn't stay unaffected by this warmth. It's good, and it's soothing and somehow it seems to swipe away every ounce of darkness that may be left in her.

"Thank you Regina" the whisper is silent, way too silent and Regina knows it's because Emma is giving her a way out, a way of ignoring it, a way of being able to pretend it didn't happen and stay in silence.

But she looks up and meets Emma's eyes and somehow she is too tired, too warm and comfortable to try and lock away her emotions.

She isn't even sure what is displayed in her eyes at the moment. Her mother always said they gave away way too much. More than she knew herself.

But whatever it is, it causes Emma to smile at her, with that honest, trusting smile and she finds her lips curling up to reflect that smile on her own.

She watches as Emma scoots closer, slowly, so very slowly, her eyes always set on Regina's , waiting for any sign of discomfort that would tell her to stop.

She settles right in front of her then and crosses her legs underneath her before she reaches out and takes Regina's hand.

She traces the lines on her palm for a while, careful and focused as if the world would end if she didn't get this right, miss a line or not do it justice. As if it was precious.

The warmth radiating from the palm and Regina's general being starts to wave off and it's okay. It was enough. She looks up at Regina again before she interweaves their fingers into a secure hold.

She bites down on her lip, a little unsure, a little shy and a little happy and Regina squeezes her hand if only for a second.

Neither of them is sure on how to proceed and for a couple of seconds they just listen to the sound of the silence surrounding them.

"What's your favorite color?" the question is so random that Regina blinks for a couple of seconds, trying to comprehend it.

"I'm sorry?" she almost laughs and finds Emma's smile widening too, although the look of expectance and genuine curiosity doesn't leave her gaze.

"Green" she says then "my favorite color is green" she thinks about her statement for a second, contemplating on whether she should expand on that or not "Everyone always assumed it was purple, but it's green. I always though it to be a very warm color"

Emma watches her intently, as if this answer meant the world to her. And maybe it did.

Their small talk is on and off, reaching from Henry's childhood to the incompetence of Storybrooke's pizza delivery guy and it's only when Emma notices the subtle signs of the fatigue creeping up on Regina that she lets it wave off.

Regina falls asleep only seconds later, her back against the backrest, her feet propped up in front of her and her hand still enveloped in Emma's.

A couple of seconds later the blonde scoots a little closer, just close enough to be able to wrap the blanket around the both of them, before she starts to doze off as well.

The next morning, neither of them is quite sure what to make of it. The last night, or waking up in tangled legs and arms with their hands still clasped.

But they will figure it out.

Eventually.

* * *

AN: I don't know what happened but I do hope that maybe you liked it? Also this is vastly unedited because I suck at this tbh.


End file.
